Page 45 of One Kind Hand

She swirled her tongue over that offered treat, sucking a little extra on his finger and watching desire bloom in his gaze. At this rate, the man would get a concussion from too much sexual activity.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said, turning her attention back to her hot fudge-drenched chocolate chip ice cream.

“Like what?” His grin threatened her sanity.

“Like you want to haul me back to bed.”

“Can’t help it,” he said. “I definitely want to do that.” He cast a quick glance down the hallway. “That bedroom is my new favorite place.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. His lips were cold from the ice cream yet heated her all over.

“We’d better pace ourselves.” She’d never had sex that many times in a row. Was there a number of times when it became hazardous to one’s health?

“You’re right. Stretch out the fun. Good idea.” He dove back into his ice cream, the two of them quiet while they ate.

The TV was on, but damn if Charlie could process anything happening on that screen. She was too busy coming down from the high of having all her fantasies come true. Being with Austin had been better than she’d imagined, but her head was a little messed up from the fact that she’d had relations with an actual movie star. Most people drooled over their Hollywood crushes, maybe touched themselves while watching the actors play their roles in movies, but she’d actually been with her favorite leading man and her mind couldn’t take it.

“Hey.” Austin nudged her knee with his. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing . . . I . . .” She shook her head. “I think I’m freaking out a little that we did what we did.”

“Why? Didn’t you enjoy yourself?” His face looked downright alarmed and she couldn’t resist cupping his cheek to reassure him.

“Oh my God. I enjoyed myself like I’ve never enjoyed myself before, Austin. Don’t worry about that.” She ran her thumb over his lips, happy when his facial expression relaxed and he pressed a kiss to her palm. “I just . . . I mean, it’s a little crazy that I’ve watched you in your movies over the years and now I’m . . . I’m sitting here, eating ice cream after having incredible marathon sex with you. It’s a little surreal.”

“I get it.” He looked at his dish then met her gaze again. “But I’m just a guy, Charlie.”

“You are way more than just a guy, Austin. Hollywood fame aside. I know that inside me somehow.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I’ve never experienced this . . . this connection to someone I just met.”

He took her hand and flattened it on his thigh, covering it with his own hand. “That makes two of us. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I’ll bet.” She rolled her eyes.

“I meant that in a good way,” he said. “A lot of people in the circles I find myself in aren’t genuine. They are always acting, putting on a show. You can’t get to know them. Not really. I feel as if I know you better than half of the people who have been in my life for years. You’re real and you make me feel like more than what I am on the screen.”

“You’re much more than your acting,” she said.

“Not everyone sees that.” He leaned back on the couch, his hand still over hers on his thigh. “Cody is a good buddy, but I make him money. My sisters are family, but I make them money too. Many of my co-stars are friends, but we make each other money. And honestly, most of the women I’ve dated—none of them seriously, by the way—have also been more interested in my money.”

“How do you know I’m not?” She rested her bowl of ice cream on her yoga pant-clad thigh.

“Because you were happy with pulled pork sandwiches at a steakhouse. Because you work hard for your own money, but that’s not why you fly. You fly because you want to help people and you enjoy it. Because you told me you’re content.” He shook his head, stretching his sweats-covered legs out to rest his bare feet on the coffee table. “You have no idea how refreshing all of that is.”

“You’re refreshing too,” she said. “A lot of guys I’ve been with—none of them seriously, by the way—are usually complaining about my sarcastic attitude because I’ve wounded them with some barb by now.”

Austin’s brows furrowed over his blue eyes. “Sarcastic attitude? You haven’t been that sarcastic since I’ve been around you. I don’t recall any offending barbs.”

“Exactly. It’s like you’re a cure for that personality flaw or something. I’ve had no need to hit you with my biting cynicism.”

He laughed. “Maybe we’re good for each other then.”

“Maybe.”

They went back to eating their ice cream. When spoons clanged against ceramic—and Berto had licked away any remnants—Charlie picked up her phone. A single text from Isabel had apparently come in while Charlie had been huffing Austin’s name back in the bedroom. She tapped on the message.

Isabel: Cute pup! Not the dog I pictured Austin Rayhill having. I envisioned a big, bad Doberman.

Charlie chuckled. “Isabel says she pictured you with a Doberman, not a Chihuahua.”

“I probably would have picked a Doberman, but Berto needed me instead.” He pulled the pup into his lap and nuzzled the top of Berto’s head with his chin.